


The Chemistry of Happiness

by seraphina_snape



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Future AU, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, Harry Potter References, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roleplay, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sex at work, Sexual Fantasy, Uniforms, because she's not dead OKAY?!, derek is a night security guard, erica has a cameo, just one line though, sex & banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:43:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1241728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphina_snape/pseuds/seraphina_snape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Stiles and Scott try to break into Beacon Hills High School and get caught by night security guard Derek Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chemistry of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Special shout-out to rories, Mizzy and theron09 for collectively coming up with the night security guard Derek idea and brainstorming some ideas. (The uniform was a collaborative effort. We could all agree that Derek + uniform = unf.)
> 
> Extra special & huge THANK YOU to Mizzy for the beta! ♥ You made this thing readable. ♥ ♥
> 
> Title taken from this quote by Mason Cooley: _Dancing and running shake up the chemistry of happiness._ (disclaimer: there is no actual dancing and only a tiny bit of running in this story *g*)
> 
>  **Important:** this is tagged with "no archive warnings apply" and that is 100 % true. If you're concerned about Stiles being in high school... go look at the end notes.

* * *

"I still don't know why _I_ have to be here," Scott said, giving Stiles a disgruntled look. 

"Because," Stiles said insistently. "You know why." 

"No," Scott said. "No, I really don't." 

Stiles grabbed his best friend's arm. "Come on. Maybe if we sneak in through the side entrance, he won't notice us." 

Beacon Hills High School was still every bit as intimidating at night as it had been the night they'd faced down the alpha - Peter - in there. The side entrance was locked and secured with a chain, but Stiles produced a set of lock picks and got to work. Scott huffed out a breath, annoyed, and leaned against the wall, keeping a lazy eye out for any unplanned visitors. Apart from them, of course. 

Stiles whooped in joy when the chains fell away and then clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide. 

"This is ridiculous," Scott hissed. "You're ridiculous." 

"Shut up, Scott," Stiles said. "You're just jealous of my lock picking skills."

"No. I'm concerned we'll end up in jail," Scott said. "You dad would give us that look. You know the one." 

Stiles sighed. "Yeah, I know." He shook his head. "But we have to do this. You have to do this. For me. Please?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're the bestest best bro ever," Stiles said, kneeling down to pick the door's lock. 

"Just hurry up. Allison said Derek--"

"Shh," Stiles shushed him. "Don't say his name! He'll hear."

"He's a werewolf, not Voldemort! He'll hear us anyway if he's close-by," Scott said.

"Don't--"

The door Stiles was still working on with his lock picks was jerked open from the inside, sending Stiles sprawling back on his ass. Scott reflexively popped out his claws and growled before he recognized Derek. 

"Speak of the devil," Stiles said weakly, trying for an innocent smile even though they'd literally just been caught red-handed.

Scott retracted his claws and stood up straight, giving Derek a shrug and an apologetic smile. 

Derek stood in the doorway, his hands holding on to either side of the doors. He was wearing his uniform - black pants with a sharp crease down the side and a short-sleeved blue shirt that was slightly too small, straining against Derek's muscled arms. Stiles felt his mouth go dry. Derek in a uniform. Derek. In a uniform. That was at least half of his high school fantasies wrapped up in one big, muscle-y package. 

Stiles tried to control his breathing and took the chance to give Derek another close look while he clambered to his feet. Derek's feet were in shiny black leather shoes. His pants were plain and unassuming, but Derek's powerful thighs were a definite challenge for the thin material. The black leather belt was - not unlike his dad's - fitted with several attachments and pouches. An extendable baton hung from a loop at Derek's right side. Next to it, a walkie talkie was clipped to the belt, and a gleaming pair of chrome-colored handcuffs was half visible in a small pouch on his left side. The uniform shirt had two front pockets. A shiny brass name tag was attached to the left one. It read _D. Hale_ in all capital letters. Stiles thought it suited Derek's somewhat rigid personality. One of the best parts about the uniform was the simple black tie - the real kicker of the outfit was the hat though. It was a black baseball cap with the letters BHHS printed on in glittery gold. Whenever Derek turned his head, the light caught on the glitter particles and sparkled golden.

"What are you doing here?" Derek asked, shifting his gaze from Scott to Stiles and back again.

Scott shrugged. "It was Stiles' idea."

"Traitor," Stiles said out of the corner of his mouth. Then he turned to Derek, a blinding smile on his face. "Derek! Fancy meeting you here. What a surprise, huh?" 

"You were trying to break in," Derek said. "Why were you trying to break into the high school, Stiles?" 

"Uh," Stiles said intelligently. He bent down to brush some dirt off his pants leg and when he looked up again, Derek had let go of the doors and crossed his arms over his chest, straining the already too-small shirt even more. Stiles gulped, feeling a little hot all of a sudden. 

"Okay, that's my cue," Scott said. "I'm going home." 

"But I was your ride," Stiles complained half-heartedly.

"I'll run," Scott said, patting Stiles' shoulder. "It's fine. You explain to Derek what's going on." 

"Traitor," Stiles said again, but without the heat this time. 

"Well?" Derek said when Scott had disappeared around the corner. "What's so important that you had to come here - to my place of work - in the middle of the night? Why didn't you just call me?" He glanced at the dropped chain on the ground. "And why did you try to break in?" 

"Uh. I was… looking for homework?" Stiles said slowly, nodding when he thought about it some more. That could work.

"Homework? Stiles, you're thir--"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Stiles said, taking a few quick steps forward to put a hand over Derek's mouth. Derek went a little cross-eyed, staring down his nose to glare at Stiles' hand. "I'm here because I handed in the wrong homework and my teacher is going to fail me and my dad will be disappointed and so I need to switch the homework. Or steal it. Or something."

Derek redirected his glare towards Stiles' face and then quirked an eyebrow. 

"Oh," Stiles said. He removed his hand and wiped it surreptitiously on his shirt. "Sorry." 

"Stiles, what is this?" Derek asked, giving Stiles his best exasperated look.

"You know what this is," Stiles said, cocking his head. "Don't pretend you've never thought about it." 

Derek narrowed his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

A slow smile spread over Stiles' lips. "Oh, yes, you do," he said. "Sourwolf."

"Stiles." Derek sighed. "I'm at work." 

"At my high school. Where I go. As a student. Who lost his homework or whatever." Stiles grinned. "Can I come in?"

"No." 

Stiles shrugged and followed Derek into the school building anyway, watching as Derek bent over to grab the chains from the ground and loop them around the inside door handles this time. 

"Come on. I'll take you out the front," Derek said, grabbing Stiles' upper arm. "Where I can make sure you actually leave." 

"Aww, don't be like that, Derek." 

Stiles allowed himself to be pulled until the end of the corridor, but instead of going left like Derek wanted, he insistently pulled to the right, slipping his arm out of Derek's grasp. 

"Stiles," Derek said, his lips pursed in annoyance. 

"Mr. Harris' classroom is down that way," Stiles said. He wrapped his hand around Derek's arm in an imitation of Derek's earlier hold on him. "Come on." 

Derek takes a deep, resigned breath. "Really?" 

"Yes, really," Stiles said. "But if you don't come voluntarily, I can always make you." 

Derek snorted. 

Stiles took it as a challenge and took off down the dark hallways, running past the trophy displays and the cafeteria. Over the thundering of his footsteps and the loud pulse of his heart, he could hear Derek swear. 

"I'm going to kill you, Stiles," Derek yelled after him.

Stiles grinned and rounded the last corner, pushing into the chemistry lab where Harris had tortured him for most of his high school career. The only light in the room came from the streetlights outside, coming in through the wall of windows. It was bright enough to make out the shapes of the high lab tables and vaguely distinguish between the blackboard and light-colored wall, but that was about it. 

"Boo," Derek said directly into his ear.

Stiles jumped, yelling in surprise. "Holy crap Batman! That was unnecessary." 

"This whole thing is unnecessary," Derek said. "Why can't we--"

"No!" Stiles pulled a face. "Just humor me, please?" 

"Fine," Derek said. "Back up, kid, hands on the counter!"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "What is this, bad 80s gay porn? Put some effort into it."

Derek closed his eyes for a second and Stiles was half-convinced he was going to call the whole thing off. Then Derek opened his eyes and gave Stiles a shove, pushing his hand against the center of Stiles' chest hard enough to probably leave a bruise. Derek's eyes were ringed with a faint circle of red, giving them an eerie glow in the half-dark of the room. 

Stiles shivered.

"I'm gonna have to call your dad, Stiles," Derek said. "You know there's a town-wide curfew in effect. And trespassing and breaking and entering is still illegal." 

"No," Stiles said, frantically shaking his head. "Please don't call my dad."

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" Derek said, his eyebrows drawn together in a scowl. "If I let you go and anyone finds out, I can kiss this job goodbye. And I need this job, Stiles." He shrugged. "It's just not worth it."

Stiles wet his dry lips with his tongue, thoughts racing. "I could--I mean, I can--I'm sure there's something I can do that would make it worth your while." 

"Oh, yeah?" Derek raised his eyebrows. "Like what?" 

"Like…" Stiles trailed off, taking a hesitant step towards Derek. He reached out a shaking hand and ran it over the smooth black fabric of Derek's tie. The tie ended about a hand's width above Derek's belt, but Stiles kept going until his fingers hit the cool leather. He hooked his fingers into the belt and gave it a small tug. "Like… anything you want." 

Derek gave him a speculative look. "Anything I want?" 

"Anything," Stiles whispered. 

"Hmm," Derek hummed, letting his eyes rove over Stiles' face. His gaze caught on Stiles' lips, and Stiles flicked his tongue out and licked over his lower lip out of reflex. 

Derek took that as the invitation it was and leaned forward, capturing Stiles' lips in a kiss. 

For a moment, Stiles forgot that he was in a dark, slightly stinky chemistry classroom in the high school. He forgot that Derek was at work and that he should really be at home, asleep in his bed. The only thing that had room in his thoughts was Derek and Derek's lips on his. 

Stiles moaned and opened his mouth, licking along Derek's bottom lip. Derek responded, deepening their kiss until Stiles thought he'd pass out from the sheer pleasure of it - or the lack of oxygen. 

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist and started moving, walking Stiles backwards until Stiles' back hit the nearest lab table. Stiles jolted when his back hit the table and they broke the kiss when their front teeth clacked together uncomfortably. 

Derek was plastered against Stiles' front, a warm and hard-but-soft contrast to the cold hard metal and wood of the lab table at his back. "I feel like I should be making a 'is that a nightstick in your pocket' joke right about now," Stiles said, a little out of breath. He pushed his hips against the bulge in Derek's pants, grinning when Derek gasped. 

"Shut up," Derek murmured. "Anything I want, right?" 

Stiles nodded. "That's right. Anything." 

"In that case…" Derek trailed off and pushed the unbuttoned red-and-black plaid shirt Stiles was wearing off his shoulders, dropping it on the lab table behind them. Derek's hands ran along the waistband of Stiles' jeans, his fingers brushing teasingly against the bare skin under Stiles' white t-shirt. He reached the front of Stiles' pants and quickly unbuttoned and unzipped them. He pulled the jeans and Stiles' boxers all the way down, past his knees and ankles, slipping Stiles' shoes off as he went.

Stiles shivered when the cool air hit his exposed skin and then yelped when Derek's grabbed his hips and lifted him onto the lab table. His left ass cheek ended up on his discarded plaid shirt, but his right landed on the cold metal top of the table. 

"Cold!" Stiles hissed, slapping Derek's shoulder with his left hand while he used his right to keep his sensitive ass off the cold table. 

Derek rolled his eyes, but helped him get the shirt under his ass. 

Stiles sighed, both in relief and frustration. "Now I didn't even get to enjoy you showing off your super strength which - in case I haven't mentioned this often enough yet - is a total turn on. Seriously, being able to lift me with one hand? Hella sexy." 

"I wasn't-- _That_ wasn't showing off," Derek said. " _This_ is showing off," he added, smirking. He bent down, mouth open, and wrapped his lips around Stiles' cock. He kept going until he'd swallowed all of Stiles, his nose buried in the dark curls at the base of Stiles' cock. 

"Oh my god!" Stiles gasped, fighting the urge push his hips forward to sink just a little deeper into that warm, wet heat. "Holy fuck, Derek!" 

Derek hummed and Stiles nearly leapt off the table at the fluttering sensation around the head of his cock. He raised one shaky hand and put it on Derek's head, scratching his fingernails over Derek's scalp. Derek hummed again, tilting his head a little to push back into Stiles' hand. Stiles took the cue, carting his fingers through Derek's hair and around the outer shell of his ear as Derek let up a bit and then sank back down again on his cock. 

Derek's hands slid along Stiles' legs and down to his ankles, telling Stiles without words that he wanted him to wrap them around Derek's torso. 

"Oh my god, really? Derek, I can't--"

Derek pulled back a little, not nearly far enough for Stiles to slip out of his mouth, and looked up, locking eyes with Stiles. He raised his eyebrows and then tapped Stiles' hips, a challenging look on his face. 

"Oh, fuck," Stiles said, letting out an excited breath. "Okay, yes, I can totally do that. Oh god, how did you even know that fucking your mouth in this very classroom was totally part of every fantasy of us in this school that I ever had?" He groaned, pushing his hips up in an unsteady rhythm. Derek didn't seem to mind, meeting him halfway for most of Stiles' thrusts. 

"You're just--god, you're amazing, you know that? I love you so much, I can't even--" Stiles moaned and his fingers reflexively curled into a fist, yanking on Derek's hair. "Sorry! Sorry," Stiles forced out between loud, uneven breaths. "But I'm so close, Derek. So close. If you don't stop, I'm going to come down your thro--ah!" 

Derek swallowed around Stiles' cock and Stiles threw his head back and moaned loudly, shooting his release down Derek's throat. Derek continued to swallow until Stiles weakly pushed against his forehead to get him to back off. 

Derek gently released Stiles' softening cock, his thumbs stroking over Stiles' hips. 

Stiles sat up a little straighter and flexed the muscles in his legs before releasing Derek's torso, wordlessly urging Derek to come closer. Sitting on the edge of the lab table like this, Stiles was a little more than half a head taller than Derek. He wrapped his arms around Derek's neck and dipped his head down, pulling Derek into a messy, filthy kiss. Derek's musky taste made Stiles groan and push his tongue in just a little bit deeper, chasing every flavor of himself that he could find. 

When he finally pulled back from the kiss, Stiles was panting heavily. "You deserve all the awards, big guy," he said, letting his head fall forward onto Derek's shoulder. He pressed a kiss to Derek's neck, just above the collar of his shirt. "Thank you." 

Derek shifted a little and Stiles could feel his hard cock digging into Stiles' leg. Stiles rubbed his knee against Derek's crotch before jumping off the table and palming Derek though his pants. "You up for a little quality time with Stiles' amazing ass?"

Derek huffed out a breath. "Don't call it that."

"Fine, Mr. Grumpy Pants," Stiles said, rolling his eyes. "Do you want to fuck me now? Because I'm totally up for that." He looked down at his soft dick, then shrugged. "Well, figuratively speaking. Although Little Stiles would totally be up for it, too, if he and I hadn't just had one of the most amazing orgasms ever." He patted down Derek's pockets, then frowned. "Where did you put the lube?" 

Derek made an annoyed sound, resting his forehead on Stiles' shoulder. "I didn't bring any," he said.

"What? Why not? You're the one with all the pockets!" 

"I didn't think you'd actually go through with this," Derek admitted, sounding sheepish.

"Pfft, you should know me better," Stiles said. "Besides, what kind of sexual bribe is this if the bribee doesn't even get off? You should ask for your money back" 

"That's a different kind of role play, Stiles," Derek said, grinding his hips against Stiles'. "And I don't need to fuck you to get off, do I?"

"You got that right." Stiles grinned, slowly undoing Derek's belt and pants. "Do you want me on my knees, lips wrapped around your cock? Or do you want me to get you off with my hands while I suck mark over mark into your skin and then watch them all fade by the time I get started on a new one? Or do you want to rut against me like a teenager, coming in your pants?" 

"Just your hands," Derek said, sighing when Stiles worked a hand into his underwear and wrapped it around his cock. "Love your hands. Your fingers are _obscene_." 

"Are they?" Stiles asked, amused. He curled his fingers a little tighter around Derek's cock and freed it from the tight confines of Derek's boxer briefs, relishing the way Derek shuddered against him. 

Stiles kept his strokes steady, his grip just tight enough to bring pleasure but not nearly firm enough to give Derek the relief he craved. 

Derek butted his head against Stiles' shoulder, making a frustrated sound. "Stiles!" 

Stiles smirked and turned his head. He pushed his nose against Derek's neck, breathing in the mixture of scents that smelled like home. Laundry detergent, a hint of sweat, and Derek. Stiles made a happy sound and scraped his teeth along Derek's neck before latching on to a patch of skin just under his jaw, sucking and biting until he could almost taste the blood rising to the surface. 

Derek moaned and tilted his head a little further, thrusting his hips into Stiles' loose fist. "Please," he whispered. "Stiles, please. Just--I need--" 

"Shh," Stiles said, soothing the spot on Derek's neck with his tongue until the mark had faded from view. "I know exactly what you need, Derek. And I'm going to give it to you." 

He bit down on Derek's neck again, sucking a new mark into the same spot. At the same time, he turned his wrist, twisting his fingers around Derek's cock as he jerked him off, swiping at the sensitive head with his thumb. 

Derek made a keening sound, his hips stuttering as he came all over Stiles' hand and the side of the lab table.

Stiles lifted his head, pressed a kiss to Derek's ear and whispered, "Was that of a bribe, Mr. Security Guard, or do I need to stick around for round two?" 

Derek huffed out a laugh, the sound muffled by Stiles' shoulder. 

Stiles blindly reached behind him and grabbed the plaid shirt, using it to wipe his come-stained hand dry. 

"There's a sink on every single table in here," Derek said.

"Shush, you're ruining the fantasy." 

"Still?" Derek asked. "I want to talk to you like we're ourselves again. Or do I have to keep pretending you're still a sixteen-year-old delinquent?"

"It seemed to work for you two minutes ago," Stiles said, wiggling his eyebrows at Derek.

"No, definitely not," Derek said. "You are what works for me, not the fantasy. That, I had to work around." 

Stiles frowned. "You could have said no, Derek. You can _always_ say no. If you're uncomfortable with--"

"That's not it," Derek interrupted him. "I'm just not getting off on the thought of fucking a sixteen-year-old." 

"It wasn't about the age though, if that helps. It's not a teenage fantasy, more like a high school fantasy, you know? The whole setting," Stiles said, waving a hand around the chem lab. "And wow, that probably sounds even worse. I'm glad you love me and aren't likely to call me on my weird sexual fantasies." 

"I call you on them all the time. Like that one in the elevator," Derek said. "Or the umbrella thing; that was goddamn strange." 

"Yeah, but you always help me check them off my list anyway," Stiles said, smiling. He reached out and ruffled Derek's hair. 

"Okay, enough!" Derek said, gently shoving Stiles away from of him. "I need to clean up and you need to disappear before Erica gets here to relieve me. I really could get fired for this." 

"That's okay. You could be my kept man." 

Derek snorted. "And at the next family barbecue when your dad asks how I lost my job, I'll say… what?"

For a split second, the horror vision of Derek telling Stiles' dad that he'd been fired for having kinky role play sex with his husband on the job flashed through Stiles' brain. He shook his head to clear out the image and found Derek watching him with a fond but exasperated expression on his face. 

"Well, why are you just standing there? Get cleaned up! And don't forget to straighten your tie! Where are my pants? Crap, I need to leave before Erica gets here. She would totally see through any excuse in two seconds flat and drag me to the office. This shit would be hilarious to her - she would _definitely_ call my dad and have him come down here. And then she'd be cackling in the background while I crash and burn trying to explain whahmpf--"

Stiles relaxed when Derek kissed him, running his hands up and down Stiles' arms. "Right," he said calmly when Derek pulled back. "Pants and shoes, and then I'm good to go." 

"Hmm," Derek said. "I'll see you at home." 

"Uh-huh. I love you." 

Derek smiled. "Love you, too." 

Stiles returned the smile and leaned in to press one last, chaste kiss to Derek's lips. "Thank you." 

Stiles slipped into his pants and shoved his feet into his shoes. He grabbed his now spoiled shirt and slipped out the front entrance and down to the parking lot. He threw the shirt onto the passenger seat and got into the Jeep, pulling out of the parking lot just as Erica's car came around the corner and pulled into it. 

Stiles smiled all the way home.

He was still smiling when Derek slipped into bed behind him an hour later.

**Author's Note:**

> Putting this down here because it kind of spoils the story (if the tags didn't already do that): this is a future AU where Stiles and Derek are married and Derek is a night security guard at Beacon Hills High School. Stiles and Derek play out a role-playing fantasy - no one is actually underage. Both Derek and Stiles break character several times - some of those instances are pretty obvious and some you'll only catch if you've taken up residence in my brain. *g*
> 
> Scott is in this because Scott is awesome. Also because Stiles can't have a high school fantasy without Scott right there because those two were and are and forever will be joined at the hip. (And since Scott is the bestest best bro ever, Stiles definitely told him EVERYTHING about his high school role playing sex fantasies IN GREAT DETAIL.)
> 
> Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
